


The Queen of Social Justice

by mathspook777



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Dark Comedy, Gen, Satire, Social Justice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-03-25 17:06:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3818239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathspook777/pseuds/mathspook777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SJW!Elsa wants to save Arendelle from, well, everything. Can Anna and Kristoff stop her, or do they need saving, too?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Men and Women

The woman didn't struggle as the policemen handcuffed her. "I wasn't doing anything," she whined. "I was just standing here. They all saw me standing here."

"Everyone saw you soliciting," said the sergeant.

"They're making it up. I didn't do anything."

The sergeant said, "Come along to the station, Miss." He prodded the woman with his nightstick. She made a low, wordless moan and began a mulish lumber.

Halfway to the police station, the woman spoke up. "I'm a seamstress," she said. "That's what I am, a seamstress. I'm no whore."

"We'll get your information at the station, Miss."

The police station was two stories of whitewashed brick. Steel bars covered all its windows. The sergeant delivered the woman to the officer on duty, saying, "Good luck with her. She won't tell me who she is."

The officer guided the still-handcuffed woman to his desk, to the seat opposite him. He grabbed a form. "Name?"

"I don't have one."

"What do they call you?"

"They don't call me anything."

"Do you have any friends?"

The woman looked down and traced a circle with her foot. "Guess not."

"Where are you from?" The woman didn't answer. "Are you from around here?" She shook her head. "Tell me where you're from."

"Weselton."

"When'd you get here?"

"A week ago."

"Why'd you leave?" Tears formed in the woman's eyes, and she shook her head again. "Are you running from someone?" When the woman didn't answer, the officer went across to the other side of the desk and peeked down the back of her dress.

"Get your hands off me!" the woman yelled. "You have to buy before you can look!"

The officer returned to his seat. "Are you running away because he beat you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I saw the bruises." The officer met the woman's eyes and stared until she looked away. "Is he your boyfriend?" The woman grunted. "What's his name?"

"Andre."

"Did Andre ever pimp you out?"

"I'm a seamstress."

"Really. Where did you work as a seamstress?"

"I'm between jobs."

"I see. What does Andre call you?"

"Twinkle," the woman said.

"Alright, Twinkle," the officer said, dipping his quill in ink and writing her name on the form. "I think we're making progress."

 

Elsa was sipping her morning coffee and reading the newspaper when a short article caught her eye. "Look at this," she said to Anna and Kristoff. "'Arendelle police announce the arrest of a prostitute who has been soliciting near the city square for the past week. The woman, who goes by the name Twinkle and claims to be an unemployed seamstress from Weselton, denies the charge.'" Elsa put the newspaper down. "I wonder what's really going on."

"What do you mean?" asked Anna.

"Why would they arrest her?"

Anna rolled her eyes. "Because she's a tart."

"Were they trying to meet some quota? They're not supposed to have quotas. Maybe it's because she's from Weselton."

Kristoff said, "No, it's because she's a whore. And a dumb one, too, for doing it next to the square."

Elsa continued, "It's unjust to accuse her of being a prostitute in the newspaper. She can't even defend herself. If she's innocent, then her name is being ruined. Though I don't know what kind of name 'Twinkle' is supposed to be." She twirled her braid and thought as she reread the newspaper article. "I'm going to help her," she announced.

Anna spewed coffee out her nose. "What do you mean, 'help her'? What kind of help does she deserve?"

"Defending her name. Getting a job. I'm going to meet her."

"Elsa, what are you thinking? She's a prostitute!"

"Only maybe."

Anna stood. "I can't be involved with this. I am not going to be seen with a prostitute."

Kristoff said, "I'll stay and meet her."

Anna shook her finger at Kristoff. "No, you will not! You're not going to be seen with her either!"

"Anna--"

"You need to keep away from prostitutes!"

"I just--"

Anna was waving her finger in Kristoff's face. "We are not discussing this any further! She is off limits!"

Kristoff looked up at Anna's furious grimace. There was no point arguing with her, but he wasn't going to admit to anything. He said, "You're reading something into this that isn't there. But I think it's time for me to start making deliveries, anyway."

"You do that," said Anna. As she left the dining room she called out, "And Elsa, don't you dare invite that hussy here!"

 

Later that day, the police escorted Twinkle to the castle. She was brought to the den, and her handcuffs were removed. Two castle guards stayed in the room with her while she waited for Elsa.

When Elsa swept in, she greeted Twinkle with, "How nice to meet you! It's terrible what's happened to you."

Twinkle stood when Elsa entered but didn't meet her eyes. "Yes Ma'am," she mumbled.

"I understand you're from Weselton. How do you like Arendelle so far?"

"Lots, Ma'am."

"Come sit with me." Elsa sat in an easy chair near the fireplace, and Twinkle sat on a couch. "I heard you're a seamstress but can't find a job. Is that true?"

"Um, yes Ma'am."

"Why do you think you can't find a job?"

"It's not my fault," Twinkle said. "I'm a hard worker. I've worked all day before. Ma'am."

"Have you always been a seamstress?"

"Er, uh, well I guess so. Ever since I started working."

"So you have lots of experience."

"Yeah."

"And yet you still can't find a job! Tell me, why do you think employers turn you down?"

Twinkle shrugged. "Men don't want to pay me what I'm worth. I have to eat. I can't work for free."

"Is that it? The men don't treat you fairly?"

"No Ma'am, they don't."

Elsa was nodding now. "And if men treated you fairly, then you wouldn't be mistaken for a streetwalker."

"No Ma'am, I'd be much higher class than that."

"I see. This is all making sense. Why do you think they treat you unfairly?"

"They all think they're so big. Like they're not the same as everyone else. Like they're doing me a favor."

"Big? Like self-important?"

"No, I mean down here." She gestured towards her crotch. "They think it makes them better."

Elsa leaned back in her chair. "Oh. Oh yes, that would be a problem." Elsa looked at her crotch and pondered. "I know how to fix this. I'll get everything straightened out, for you and for all women." Elsa rang for a servant. When Kai arrived, Elsa said, "Miss Twinkle is a free woman. Send a note to the police saying I have released her on my own authority. She is not to be persecuted by them."

Kai said, "Your Majesty, are you sure this is the right course of action?"

"It's just the beginning. I feel inspired."

 

The next day, Elsa issued a proclamation. A herald read it aloud in the city square. "Citizens of Arendelle! Whereas, Her Majesty Queen Elsa of Arendelle is a woman, and therefore cares deeply about the condition of women in Arendelle; and whereas, men do not pay women a fair wage for a day's work, and this is repugnant to Her Majesty; and whereas, a man's pride is his physical attributes; therefore it is hereby decreed by Her Majesty that effective immediately, all male-owned businesses shall be required to employ an equal number of men and women; and the women shall be paid a fair wage, that wage being not less than the wage of a man; and all male business owners who fail to comply shall have their manhoods frozen off by Her Majesty the Queen."

The Arendelle Chamber of Commerce was appalled. Their government liaison went straight to the castle and pleaded for an audience. Elsa received him in her study. She said, "I hope this isn't about my decree."

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but we have strong feelings about it."

"How many women are there in the Chamber of Commerce?"

"Please, Your Majesty, our members employ plenty of women--"

"Answer my question. How many women are there in the Chamber of Commerce?"

"Most women in Arendelle are self-employed and work from home. They're laundresses, or seamstresses, or wetnurses, or jobs like that."

"I already know the answer. There aren't any women members of the Chamber of Commerce. You're part of the problem."

"Ma'am, we don't seek to exclude women. We welcome women. But there aren't enough women who want employment outside the home for our members to satisfy the new law."

Elsa stood, placed her hands on her desk, and leaned forward. She glared at the man and said, "What I hear you saying is that you like the status quo. Well, history is moving on. If your members won't embrace progress, then Arendelle doesn't want them."

"But Your Majesty--"

Elsa slammed her fist on the table. "Was I not clear enough? Or do you want to drop your pants?"

The man recoiled. "No, Your Majesty. I understand, Your Majesty."

 

Later that day, Twinkle was again soliciting men in an alley outside the city square when a fat businessman approached her. "I need to hire someone," he said.

"Fifty," Twinkle said.

"Not like that. For my business."

"Is it more than four guys? I could do forty each."

"I need a woman because of the new law."

"And I'm telling you what my rates are."

"You don't have to do anything. You just have to be on my books. We could say you were a seamstress."

"I don't know how to sew."

The man scowled. "I'm a fishmonger. I don't care about sewing. I just need a woman."

"And I'm telling you, my price is fifty."

"Go to hell," the fishmonger said. "I used to like women."

 

That evening, Kristoff wandered the dark city streets. He had felt the itch again, that itch that he couldn't and didn't want to control. He respected Anna as much as he did any woman, so he kept his visits to prostitutes secret. Anna was great in bed, but trying new girls was a thrill he didn't want to give up. It made him feel manly. So did getting away with it; there were only rumors, never proof.

As Kristoff passed out of the city square, a voice called to him from an alley, "Looking for a girlfriend?"

Kristoff stopped. "What if I am?" he asked.

"I could be your girlfriend," Twinkle said.

Kristoff looked around, then stepped into the alley. He eyed the curve of Twinkle's body and the flesh visible beneath her skimpy dress. She wasn't familiar. "I'd like that."

"Fifty."

"Forty."

"Forty-five."

"Done."

Kristoff and Twinkle walked to the back of the alley, still in sight of the street but far enough back that they wouldn't be disturbed. As Kristoff undid his belt, a voice shouted, "Twinkle! I see you back there!"

Kristoff swore and redid his belt. Twinkle yelled back, "I don't know you anymore, Andre!"

Andre swaggered down the alley. He had a scraggly beard, yellow teeth, and smelled of raw onions. "You can't run from me, Twinkle," he said.

"We're done! I'm not your girlfriend any more."

"You owe me."

"I don't owe you anything!"

"I do everything for you! I keep you safe. I find you clients. I come get you when you go missing."

"I don't want you to get me!"

Kristoff was trying to sneak around Andre and leave. "Stop right there," said Andre. "Twinkle, did he pay you yet?"

Kristoff said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"See Twinkle, this is why you need me. He was going to run off without paying."

"Look, this is just a misunderstanding--"

"Pay up!" Andre yelled in Kristoff's face. "Or I'm gonna beat the hell out of you."

Kristoff had survived plenty of fights growing up, and he was taller and more muscular than Andre, but Andre might have had a knife. "Alright," Kristoff said. With a pang of regret, he reached into his purse, pulled out some bills, and handed them to Andre.

Andre counted the money and said, "Not enough. She's worth sixty."

"We agreed on forty-five, and I didn't even get what I paid for!"

"You want a beating?"

Kristoff felt indignant. All he had wanted was some action, and now he was being robbed by this puny, conceited man. "Give me my money back or you're the one getting the beating!"

"Fool, pay up or get wrecked."

Kristoff threw the first punch. It landed on Andre's cheek, and he stumbled backwards into the wall of the alley. Twinkle began screaming. Andre and Kristoff circled each other. Andre charged and made a wide swing with his right fist. Kristoff blocked it, but Andre drove his knee into Kristoff's groin. Kristoff doubled over and felt Andre's fists pounding against his back. With a roar, Kristoff lifted Andre overhead and slammed him to the pavement. As Andre got up, he charged Kristoff again, shoving him against the wall.

A pair of policeman appeared at the entrance to the alley. "Hey you! Break it up!" one yelled.

"Huh?" said Kristoff. Andre punched Kristoff in the gut, and Kristoff crumpled. Andre bent over and punched Kristoff in the face until the policemen tackled Andre.

Twinkle had stopped screaming. Kristoff looked for a way to escape, but another pair of policemen had arrived and were running towards him. "Oh, hell," he said. Anna was going to find out now.

 

The police knew Twinkle had been arrested for prostitution before, and besides, Andre kept yelling that she was a dumb whore for having run away from her pimp. The police believed Kristoff when he said he was being robbed but not when he claimed he was just out for a walk. But, lacking any evidence against him, they escorted him home.

When Anna saw Kristoff's bloodied face she was horrified. "Oh my God! Kristoff! What happened?"

"Don't worry, I'm fine," Kristoff said. 

One of the policeman began, "We found him in an alley near the city square--"

Kristoff interrupted, "Getting robbed. Some guy with bad breath wanted my money."

Anna said, "You poor dear! Come here and let me take care of you."

The policemen said, "Ma'am, there was a woman who seemed to be a--"

"An accomplice. Of course."

"What I mean to say is--"

"I'm sure there's nothing more to it. Kristoff's a good man at heart. Thank you for assisting him, officers. Good night."

The policeman gave his partner a sidelong glance, and his partner shrugged. "Good night, Ma'am."

When Kristoff and Anna were alone, he said, "I'm sorry, baby."

Anna put her hand on Kristoff's swollen, whiskered cheek and stroked it. She leaned forward, rested her head on his chest, and hugged him. "Don't you ever do that again," she whispered. "Ever."

Kristoff felt ashamed. He had expected Anna to be angry, but she wanted to dote on him. She cleaned his wounds, had Elsa make ice to put on his bruises, and gave him a bath. He was surprised when Anna undressed for him. Afterwards, as they lay together in bed, he kissed her and said, "I don't deserve you." She smiled and rested her hand over his heart.

 

The judge ruled Andre, being a pimp, was a business owner and Twinkle was his employee. Since Andre had already admitted to taking more than half the money Twinkle earned, he became the first man convicted under the queen's new equality law.

Elsa wanted the punishment to be a public event, so it was performed on the gallows next to the city jail. Andre was handcuffed and restrained by two policemen. Twinkle, who was in the crowd, called, "Andre! I didn't mean it! I'll be your girl again!"

"It's too late! Look where you got me, you stupid whore!"

Twinkle was overcome by rage. She yelled, "I didn't get you nowhere! See if I care!"

At the appointed time, the police removed Andre's pants. His manhood hung for the world to see. Elsa took it in her hand and froze it solid. Andre gasped with pain. She wiggled the icy appendage back and forth until it broke off.

Elsa raised the block of ice for the crowd to see. "This is the punishment for mistreating a woman!" she proclaimed. "Ladies, rejoice!" She expected cheers, but there was only silence.


	2. Doxxing

That Tuesday, Anna and Kristoff were finishing breakfast when Elsa, who was reading the newspaper, made a small yelp. Anna asked, "Elsa? Is something the matter?"

Elsa's eyes flitted back and forth across the newspaper. She seemed not to have noticed Anna. As Elsa read and reread, she clenched her teeth and squeezed her hands with rage, crumpling the newspaper. With a shout she threw it down. "Of all the ignorant, intolerant things!" she cried.

Kristoff kept his eyes on his eggs. A reaction like this could only be about Elsa's equality law.

Anna asked, "What's wrong?"

Elsa tossed the newspaper to Anna. "Read the letter. Third column, halfway down."

Anna picked up the newspaper and read. "'The Queen's equality law is well-meaning but misguided'? That one?"

"Yes."

In fact the letter was Anna's. She had tried without success to convince Elsa that the equality law was an overreach. Desperate to change her sister's mind, Anna had written an anonymous letter to the Arendelle Messenger to stir up public opinion against the law. After pretending to skim her own letter, Anna asked, "What's wrong with it?".

"The end."

Anna read the end. "'The Queen's admirable thirst for equality has led her down an ill-considered path.' So?"

"Below that."

"'This correspondent wishes to remain anonymous'?"

"Exactly."

"What's wrong with an anonymous letter?"

"The letter is so violent and deranged that it could only have been written by a sick misogynist. But he's also a coward. He doesn't want us to know who he is because he doesn't want to face consequences for his vicious beliefs."

"The letter didn't sound vicious to me."

"Read it again and you'll see. It's dripping with hatred."

Kristoff moved his eggs from one side of his plate to the other. With Elsa as angry as she was, he didn't want her to notice him. Nor did he want to leave, however, because he didn't want to leave Anna alone to argue with Elsa. Anna had read him the letter before she sent it, and he recognized it. 

Anna said, "I think it's written by a woman."

"Of course not," said Elsa.

"It sounds like a woman."

Kristoff said, "It's just an opinion. It doesn't do any lasting harm."

Elsa shook her head. "No, it could have reminded some poor woman of abuse she once endured. The newspaper ought to be a safe space. Triggering someone's painful memories is a nasty thing to do, and doing it anonymously is unacceptable." Elsa got up from the table. "But I know what to do about it."

 

When the middle-aged Simon Andersen, editor-in-chief of the Arendelle Messenger, arrived at the castle, he was taken to Elsa's study. The Queen sat behind her desk. There was a copy of the morning's newspaper in front of her. Andersen bowed and said, "Your Majesty, thank you for seeing me."

"Sit," Elsa directed.

Andersen sat across from Elsa. "I got your letter a hour ago, Ma'am. I was very surprised. We've never received a request like yours before."

"Are you going to tell me you don't know who sent it?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Andersen pulled the letter from out of his coat pocket and passed it to Elsa. "The letter doesn't say who wrote it, and there's no return address on the envelope."

Elsa studied the letter and the envelope. There were no identifying marks on either. The paper was fine but had no letterhead. The handwriting was familiar, as if the author had learned to write using the same copybooks as Elsa and Anna. It couldn't be Anna, of course, and besides, plenty of people wrote in that style.

Elsa set the letter down. "I see. I expect you to figure out who wrote it. When you do, print it."

Andersen's eyes went wide. "But Your Majesty! I thought you just wanted to know for yourself!"

"No, that's not what I had in mind. I wanted everyone to know."

Andersen could feel himself panicking. Letters to the editor were popular. He had thought the anonymous letter would attract attention and increase sales. It seemed to have worked, because morning edition sales had been brisk and the newspaper had already received several more anonymous letters. Printing the author's identity would ruin the newspaper's opportunity. "But why?"

"People deserve to know that this man holds such heinous opinions."

"Your Majesty, I believe the letter is from a woman." Andersen pointed at the writing. "Notice the loopy, flowing style. It's a feminine hand."

"Perhaps he was trying to disguise himself, but his hatred gives him away." Elsa motioned for Andersen to leave. "I expect to see a name and address in print by the day after tomorrow. And don't hide it in the corner. Make it prominent."

 

That same morning, Inga Andersen entered Soren Falk's butcher shop for the first time. She looked around the shop. Cuts of meat hung from the ceiling. A scale stood on the counter, and behind the counter were a pair of freestanding butcher's blocks. There was a door to the back of the shop, but it was closed. Nobody was around.

Inga rung the bell on the counter and continued looking through the meat hanging in the shop. After a moment, a red-faced, wide-mustached man wearing a bloody apron yanked open the door at the back of the shop. He said, "What?"

"Mr. Falk?" Inga asked. "I'd like to buy a cut of beef. A rib roast."

Falk grunted. "Which one?"

Inga looked around the shop again. "Excuse me, but I don't see any."

"Over there!" snarled Falk, pointing at a corner of the shop.

Inga went to the corner and began examining the roasts. One of them was juicy red but a little small. Another wasn't as red but had delightful marbling throughout. She examined a third roast, then a fourth.

Falk was still standing at the door. "Come on, I'm waiting."

Inga got flustered. "I'm looking," she said.

"Are you going to keep looking, or are you going to buy?"

"It's for a special occasion. My husband was made editor-in-chief of the Messenger, and we've just moved into a new house, and--"

"I don't care. Just pick."

Inga stopped looking at the beef. "Mr. Falk, I'm appalled! This is my first time in your shop, and you're trying to make it my last. I had heard you were the best butcher in the area, but if this is how you treat your customers then I shall go elsewhere."

"Suits me. If you know what you want, I'll take your money, but I'm not going to stand here all day for some woman."

"What! I'm a customer!"

"Then buy something already."

As Inga left the shop, she said, "I suppose the Queen is right. If this is how you treat women, Sir, then I pity your wife. Good day."

 

When Simon Andersen got home that evening, his wife was still angry at Falk. "That man is a barbarian!" she railed. "I thought he would be convenient since he's just down the street from us. And Mrs. Hummel did tell me that he had the best meat. I should have listened to her when she said he could be difficult!"

Simon nodded and pretended to listen. Half of his staff had wasted the day trying to discover the author of the anonymous letter, and they had failed. They would fail again tomorrow, too, he expected. At best, that would be the end of his month-old editorship. At worst, well, at least he didn't want more children.

Inga was still ranting. "I was a new customer. You'd think a shopkeeper would be excited for a new customer, would be generous to a new customer. But no, I'm just some woman!"

Simon started. "What was that, dear?"

"He called me, 'some woman'! And I was just furious, oh I could hardly contain myself!"

"'Some woman'? So he doesn't appreciate women?"

"Not at all! I wonder if he would have treated you the same way."

"Hmm," said Simon. "And you said he has a reputation for being difficult?"

"He has a terrible reputation! The man knows his meat, not his manners."

"Hmm," repeated Simon. "Hmm."

 

When Soren Falk opened the newspaper two days later, it left him speechless. At the top of the letters to the editor section was the brief statement, "At Her Majesty's personal request, we are publishing the identity of the author of the anonymous letter in Tuesday's edition. Soren Falk, 38 West Forest Street."

Falk couldn't understand it. He hadn't written to the Messenger. As stupid as he thought the equality law was, he knew better than to make himself a target for every do-gooder in the city. Yet there were his name and address in the newspaper, connected to thoughts he shared but words he didn't write.

Falk put down the newspaper and dashed off a letter. "Deer Editer, I didnt rite that letter. Why are you acusing me. I had nothing to do with it. Im just a butcher." He signed it, sealed the letter in an envelope, and left for the post office. Maybe it would make the afternoon edition.

 

The chief of police, Marius Leonardsen, didn't want to be in Elsa's study, but he couldn't think of an excuse to escape a direct summons from the queen. He had supposed it was because he hadn't been enforcing the equality law, and he had resigned himself to being given a quota. He wished he had been right.

"So you want me to target an innocent man?" Leonardsen asked again.

Elsa said, "You've read the letter. Falk's not innocent."

"He also denies that the letter is his. Ma'am, he came to us yesterday evening. He said that ever since his name and address got published, he's been getting death threats."

"People are angry at him for good reason. Nobody likes a criminal."

"We have no evidence that he's a criminal."

"Collect some, then. Do whatever's necessary."

"What would that be, Ma'am?"

Elsa glared at Leonardsen. He was being deliberately obtuse, as if she weren't already making herself clear. Maybe Leonardsen thought women were stupid. "If you can't figure that out, there's going to be a new police chief. Now get out."

 

That night Falk lay sleepless in his bed. Yesterday afternoon, a letter had threatened to kill him in his sleep. His denial made yesterday's evening edition, but today, a letter had threatened arson, and another one had said only, "You're a dead man." He had instructed his wife not to worry over the letters, but his voice had been hollow. He looked to his right. She was staring at the ceiling, as awake as he was.

There was a thump from downstairs. Falk held his breath to listen more closely. A crack and another thump. His wife grabbed his arm. "Soren," she whispered, "someone's here."

"Quiet, woman," Falk whispered. He threw the blanket aside. Grabbing a poker from the fireplace, he crept toward the bedroom door. There were footsteps outside. He raised the poker over his head.

The door crashed open and black-clad men poured through. Three men tackled Falk. "Police! Get on the ground, get on the ground!" they shouted. They slammed Falk to the ground and tore the poker from his hands. More men rushed through the door. "Hands in the air!" they shouted. As they dragged Falk's wife out of bed, she screamed.

"Get off me!" shouted Falk as he struggled against the policemen's grip.

"Stay on the ground!" shouted one of the policemen. As Falk tried to stand, the policeman drew his baton. He struck Falk on the chest, and Falk yelled. The policeman shouted, "I said stay down!" When Falk tried to stand again, the policeman smashed his baton over Falk's head, and Falk stopped moving.

 

When Falk woke up the next morning, he was in a jail cell. The jailer fetched a detective to question Falk. After the detective had confirmed Falk's identity, he inquired about Falk's business. "Do you have any employees, Mr. Falk?" asked the detective.

Falk didn't want to cooperate with the men who had beaten him, but he thought it was his only way out of jail. "Yes," he said.

"Tell me about them."

"There's a young man, Leif, seventeen. He cuts meat, makes sausage, takes deliveries, that sort of thing. And there's a boy, Jonas, about fourteen, who just started. He's learning to cure meat."

"Any others?"

"No."

"No women?"

Falk sucked in his breath. "Is that what this is about?"

"Just answer me."

Falk snickered. "You think I'm in violation of the equality law?"

"From what you've said so far, you are."

"I'm not stupid. As of last Tuesday, I'm legal."

"What?"

"There was an obnoxious woman. Said she was a new customer and wanted me to wait on her hand and foot. You know the type. When I wouldn't, she threatened me with the equality law and left." Falk grinned at the detective. "Check with the bank. We used their notary. The butcher shop is wholly owned by my wife."

 

Since the equality law didn't apply to Falk, he was let free the next day. The morning after, Falk's release made the front page of the newspaper. Elsa was furious. She summoned Chief Leonardsen to her study. "What do you think you're doing?" she yelled. 

"Ma'am, we didn't find any evidence of a crime."

"He's a criminal!"

"But without evidence--"

Elsa slammed her fist on the table. "We're past needing evidence! Lock him up!"

"But why, Ma'am?"

Elsa stood, leaned over the table, and channeled her rage into her voice. "Either go fix it or drop your pants. You have ten seconds. One. Two."

Leonardsen was gone by four.

 

Anna felt guilty. Her letter had gotten an innocent man humiliated, threatened, and injured. As she walked through the castle, trying to reconcile her morality with her wish not to get in trouble with Elsa, she saw Leonardsen leave Elsa's study. With trepidation she said, "Good morning, Chief Leonardsen."

Leonardsen gave a brief nod. "Good morning, Your Highness," he said as he passed her, trotting down the hallway. A few steps past her, he said, "Wait. Pardon me, Your Highness, may I have a word with you?"

Dark guilt oozed over Anna. "Me? What do you mean?"

Leonardsen said, "Privately, if you please, Ma'am."

Anna led Leonardsen to the library. Her heart pounded as she asked, "What's the matter?"

"Your Highness, the Queen has asked me to do something unpleasant. I, well, let me say that I don't know her reasoning. Could you help me?"

"Tell me what you know."

Leonardsen felt hopeful. Perhaps the Crown Princess would be able to explain the Queen's reasoning, or, even better, to change the Queen's mind. "The Queen would like me to arrest Mr. Falk again. She says he's a criminal, and if I don't arrest him, she'll--well, you see, it's something I don't want her to do to me. But last time we arrested him we found no evidence of a crime. Which is why I need your help. I was hoping you could give me a reason why he's a criminal."

Anna shook her head. She wouldn't make up excuses to arrest Falk. Leonardsen would have to do that without her. "No, you'll have to reconcile it with your conscience on your own. Goodness knows I'm struggling with mine."

"I see. I'm sorry to bother you, Ma'am." Within days they had forgotten the conversation, never having discovered their miscommunication.

 

It wasn't raining, and it wasn't cold. Anna knew she would look ridiculous wearing a cloak that covered her head and left her face in shadow, but there was no other way for her to walk around town without being noticed. Arriving at Falk's butcher shop, she rang the bell on the counter once, twice, then a third time.

Falk yanked open the back door. "What?" he growled. "I heard you the first time."

"The Queen is going to have you arrested again," said Anna. 

Falk laughed. "I'm already suing the police. They're going to be paying me money for years."

"You have to leave Arendelle! The police chief just visited the castle. She told him to arrest you again."

"More money for me. Serves the bitch right."

At Falk's insult, Anna's face became hot. "She is not a bitch!"

Falk's already red face turned purple, and he began to shout. "I didn't do anything to her! Nothing, not ever, and she tried to ruin my life! And for what? Because she thinks dumb cunts like her need special treatment!"

Falk's smothering hatred choked Anna's rebuke in her throat. Open-mouthed, she gaped at him. She had wanted to save him, and through him to save herself. At last she said, "I'm not helping you anymore," and left.

 

A few hours later, the police raided Falk's shop. Falk laughed all the way to prison. When his lawyer arrived, Falk learned that Elsa had issued a special edict condemning Falk and pardoning the police. The next day, Falk was led to the gallows, and Elsa froze his manhood off.

Simon Andersen was in the audience. He felt guilty until Falk began spewing obscenities against women.


	3. Fun and Games

The bell over the entrance to Jakobsen Toys and Games rang. "Just a moment," Vivian called. She put aside the game box she was assembling and turned around. "How may I help--oh. You."

Ulf grinned, his white teeth flashing against his carefully trimmed blond stubble. "Who else? You knew I was coming."

Ulf was the games reviewer for the Arendelle Messenger. For Vivian and her husband Stefan, there was no avoiding him, no matter how much they wanted to. She reached for a copy of her newest game. "Take your review copy and get out," she said, dropping it onto the counter.

Ulf leaned over the counter, ignoring the box and peering down the front of her dress. She backed up a step, and his eyes followed her chest. He asked, "Am I going to like it?"

"Do you time it so that my husband"--she emphasized the word--"isn't here when you come by?"

"Yes."

"Figures." Stefan was out picking up more copies from the printer. "Do you even play games anymore?"

Ulf chuckled. "Aren't we playing one right now? And maybe there's another game you and I could play. Just the two of us."

"I don't have any other games for you." Vivian and Stefan had complained to the Messenger and been ignored. They had complained to the police and been told that there was no evidence of a crime, even if the detective had agreed that Ulf was creepy. The Messenger had a new editor-in-chief. Maybe they should complain again.

"Really?" Ulf looked down at the box. "Ogre," he read. "An ugly word. Maybe it's an ugly game. I don't think I'll like it. I wonder if there's something you could do to make me like it better." He rubbed his crotch.

Vivian had never wanted to know how far Ulf's sick urges would go. Stefan was supposed to be back soon. She needed a delay; she decided to play dumb. "How about I walk you through it? It's an asymmetrical tactical warfare simulation." Ulf leered at her. Directing her eyes at the box, she continued, "You can either play as the humans defending your castle or as an ogre trying to destroy the human castle."

As Vivian reached for the box lid, Ulf grabbed her arm. "That's not what you need to do for me."

Vivian tried to draw her arm back, but Ulf held tight. He had never touched her before. Stefan still wasn't back. "Take your filthy paw off of me," she said.

"You know what I want." Ulf pulled her hand to his side of the counter and stopped it right in front of his crotch. "Come on."

Vivian's heart pounded in her chest. Her vision dimmed, and she could see only her hand, hovering inches from Ulf. She tried to break free again, but without success.

The doorbell rang again. Ulf let go of Vivian and scooped up the box. He said, "Thank you. I expect I'll have a review next week." He turned. Stefan was standing in the door. "Stefan!" he said. "Pleased to see you."

Stefan saw that his wife was trembling. She sniffled, and he noticed a tear running down her cheek. He said to Ulf, "Get out."

"Of course. Good day."

When Ulf had left, Vivian knelt on the floor, and Stefan held her while she cried.

 

Footsteps pounded down the hallway. A glowing, grinning Anna ran into Elsa's study. "It's here!" Anna said.

"What's here?"

"It just arrived!" Anna held up a brown paper package.

"What? What's going on?"

"Come on come on, let's play." Anna set the package on Elsa's desk and tore it apart, scattering strips of paper wrapping across the floor. "See?" Anna proclaimed. She held up a cardboard box. "Sit down and play with me!" She pulled the lid off the box and began sifting through pieces of cardboard.

Elsa picked up the box lid. Big letters proclaimed, "OGRE". In smaller print it said, "A board game for two players. From Jakobsen Toys and Games." Most of the cover was an illustration of an army of men battling a gigantic ogre five times their height.

Anna said, "Help me figure out the rules."

Elsa studied the drawing of the ogre. It held a club in one hand and carried a sack of boulders on its back. The men were swinging swords at its shins. "Didn't it get a terrible review?" Elsa asked.

"The Messenger never likes the Jakobsens' work. Everyone is talking about the game, it's supposed to be amazing."

Elsa put down the lid. "Maybe Kristoff will play with you."

Kristoff, however, was out making ice deliveries, so Anna had to content herself with reading and rereading the rules. At dinner that evening, all Anna could talk about was Ogre. "So the ogre can attack with both his arms each turn, and he can swing his club or throw a boulder or punch, and he can also kick you with each of his legs, and if he moves on top of you then he tramples you, and when you hit him you have to target a part of his body, and when you've hurt a body part enough then he gets weaker, which means a good strategy is to attack his legs, because then he can't move as fast, because otherwise it only takes him eight turns to get to the castle, and if he gets there he can destroy it in one turn, but if you only attack his legs, then if he gets into range he can still throw boulders at the castle--"

Elsa had stopped even pretending to pay attention to Anna's monologue. She had decided to eat as fast as she could and leave. Kristoff was nodding but was lost among the endless details of gameplay. The game sounded interesting--who wouldn't want to beat up an ogre?--but complicated, maybe too complicated to enjoy.

Within days Anna became absorbed by Ogre. She played it constantly, first with Kristoff, then, after Elsa refused to play, with the servants. When she wasn't playing Ogre, she was thinking and talking about it. "I dreamed I was a cavalryman," she announced at breakfast a few weeks later, "and I charged the ogre, but my second move turn got skipped so I couldn't retreat, and the ogre trampled me, so I couldn't move on my next turn, but then Kristoff fired a cannon at the ogre and he died."

Elsa interrupted, "Anna? Are there any women in Ogre?"

Anna knew what Elsa was suggesting, but she didn't want to implicate Ogre and its designer. She said, "The armies could have women. It doesn't say anywhere."

"I got a letter," Elsa said. "From the Messenger's games reviewer. He says the game is misogynistic. He didn't want to say anything in his review because he didn't want to draw attention to the game. But now that it's popular, he wants me to ban it."

Anna gasped. "No no no, you can't ban it! It's so much fun! If you would just play a game with me--"

"The story says there are women and children in the castle, right? So the men are defending the women, as if women are weak and can't defend themselves."

Anna stammered, "But, but, but it's not like that!"

"Is he lying?"

"They just fired him though!"

"Still, is he lying?"

Anna guessed that she had already played Ogre for about fifty hours. She had gotten good at the game, but she was still exploring. She spent most of her days discovering new strategies. Losing Ogre would put a hole in her life. Yet, she wondered, she hadn't thought about the story since the first day. Maybe she had been blind. "I guess not," she said.

"It's at least worth investigating. I'm going to arrest the designer."

Anna's eyes went wide. She knew what that would lead to. "Elsa, the world isn't about men's privates. Freezing off a toymaker's manhood doesn't help anyone."

"Depends on the toymaker. We'll see."

 

Stefan's arrest for promoting the oppression of women left Vivian in shock. Pending an investigation, they weren't allowed to sell Ogre. Vivian had repeated to the policemen over and over, "But I'm the designer. I made Ogre." It hadn't done any good.

Publishing a new game always forced Stefan and Vivian to dip into their savings, and while they had already recouped most of their costs, without further sales it would be hard to afford a lawyer. Feeling that she had no better options, Vivian wrote to both the queen and, because Princess Anna didn't share her sister's harsh disposition, to the princess. Within hours, Princess Anna wrote an excited reply. Its handwriting was big and uneven, as if her hands had been shaking. Vivian wasn't sure whether the reply's excitement was genuine or feigned, but she accepted the offer of an audience immediately.

Vivian put on her favorite green and purple dress, tied her wavy, voluminous red hair back in a purple ribbon, and went to the castle. When Vivian entered the library, Elsa and Anna were sitting across from each other playing Ogre. Vivian said, "Your Majesty, Your Highness," and curtsied. "Thank you for seeing me."

"Come and sit," said Elsa.

Vivian sat between Elsa and Anna and looked at the game board. Elsa, who seemed to be the Ogre, had made the beginner's mistake of chasing after human forces instead of focusing on the castle, and that had left her in a difficult position. "Do you like my game, Ma'am?" Vivian asked Elsa.

Anna jumped in. "Yes! I've played it so much. The strategy is so deep, like how I realized a few days ago that you could have an army of all cannons, and it didn't work the first time, but--"

"Oh, it'll work!" said Vivian. "But it's harder to play than a mixed defense, and a good ogre can get through it. Have you tried an army of all cavalry?"

While Anna and Vivian became involved in an animated discussion of strategy, Elsa sat and listened. Vivian's letter had claimed she was the designer of Ogre, but Elsa had thought that might be a ploy to get Stefan freed. As Vivian explained how she had decided on the rules and what tradeoffs she had made, Elsa began to be convinced. Still, knowing that Vivian was the designer of Ogre didn't change Ogre's unacceptable message. Elsa figured that Vivian, being a woman, was unlikely to have consciously made a game that contributed to her own oppression, but internalized oppression would explain Ogre's plot. Perhaps Stefan mistreated her at home. "Vivian?" Elsa asked. "What about the story? Where did you come up with the idea for an ogre to eat women and children?"

"Oh, that was an afterthought. I came up with it only a week before we published."

"But that's the part that concerns me. It seems anti-woman."

While Vivian had known that Stefan had been arrested because of Ogre, she had assumed it was a pretext. The queen seemed to be saying it wasn't, that the backstory she had thrown together and believed harmless was the true reason for Stefan's imprisonment. "Really? The story isn't important."

"It's the most important part! That's why everyone is fighting!"

Elsa's vehemence was frightening. As long as the queen believed that Ogre was misogynistic, Stefan was in danger. "Actually I meant Ogre to be empowering," Vivian improvised.

"What? How so?"

"The ogre is an oppressed minority," Vivian said. "The game gives players the opportunity to understand what it's like to have an entire society united against you. And," she said, thinking of a theme the queen would like, "there's no more oppressed minority than women. I knew I could never make a popular game that was openly about the plight of women. Ogre pretends to be about a fantasy battle, but it's really a commentary on contemporary society."

Elsa nodded and looked at the game board. She hadn't realized it before, but while playing as the ogre she had felt oppressed. She had only a single piece to move while Anna had an entire army. Some of Anna's pieces were born with advantages that Elsa would never have, like cavalry's ability to move twice per turn. The ogre's only advantage was its ability to withstand constant, degrading abuse from all corners. "Tell me more," she said.

"I thought that a game about women's position in society could be an effective agent for change. But if it was too explicit, men would refuse to play. Everything had to be below the surface."

"Is there anything else to the symbolism?"

Vivian began, "Well, not really," before inspiration struck. "But actually, the castle has a meaning, too. It's the thing men guard most of all. The thing that makes them what they are. You know."

"Of course! So when the ogre destroys their manhood, he breaks their power." Elsa clapped her hands. "I love it! It's brilliant!"

Vivian was relieved. Maybe now Elsa would let Stefan go and would let them sell the game.

Elsa asked, "So do you think people will learn from it?"

"Pre-orders were strong, Ma'am, and sales have been good. I'm hopeful."

Elsa became pensive. "I wonder, though, whether they'll understand the symbolism. I certainly missed it."

"Ma'am, I want everyone to miss it. I don't want anyone else to hear what I just said. Ever."

"I know, but what happens after they've played Ogre? What would their next step be?" Elsa mused, "They need another game. A game more explicitly about women so that they can draw connections between the game and their behavior. A game about the lives we lead and the trials we suffer." Elsa laid her hand on Vivian's forearm. "Vivian, could you make an openly pro-women game? As a favor to me?"

Anna interrupted, "Can I help? Please, please, please!"

Elsa's hand was cold, and Vivian's husband was still in jail. "Of course," she said. "Tell me more."

"The setting, the style, the gameplay, all of it's up to you. You may make any game you like as long as it's about being a woman."

Anna said, "I have an idea! I want to help!"

Vivian didn't feel like she was in a position to decline the princess's request, so she said, "Uh, okay."

"Yes!" exclaimed Anna, pumping her fists into the air. "I get to make a game with my favorite designer of all time!"

Elsa said, "I should leave you to it, then. Have fun."

 

Stefan was released, and the ban on Ogre was lifted. The publicity made sales of Ogre surge. Vivian, though, was more worried than before. Anna's idea, an idea she clung to with unwavering tenacity, was to make a game about fashion and makeup and socializing. "It's perfect," Anna said. "Women everywhere will relate to it." Vivian almost agreed. If the queen didn't like the game, she and Stefan might end up in a worse situation than before.

Vivian and Anna spent a feverish two weeks designing the game. The centerpiece of the game was going to balls. Each round, players would design dresses, choose a hairstyle, accessorize, and go to a ball. Playing a friendship card on another player could give access to more skilled dressmakers or to more fashionable shoes and jewelry, and playing a rumor card disrupted a friendship.

Anna found herself giggling with excitement far too often. When Elsa asked her how the game was going, she'd say, "Marvelous! You're going to love it!" Vivian hoped that Anna knew her sister.

After a few more weeks of playtesting, Vivian and Stefan ordered an initial print run of a hundred copies. Only a hundred, Vivian said to Stefan, "in case the queen bans it."

The game was entitled, "Ballroom." The day of publication, Anna demanded that Elsa come with her to Jakobsen Toys and Games to see the finished product assembled for the first time. Elsa would have been just as happy not to go, but to please her sister, she agreed. When they arrived, a surprised Vivian greeted them and said, "Stefan is picking up the parts from the printer right now. So far we only have the proofs."

Vivian took Anna and Elsa into the back and showed them the prototype board, cards, and playing pieces. Anna volunteered, "I want to show it off! Don't worry about us, you can mind the shop." Vivian was relieved. Hopefully Anna would take the blame for anything the queen didn't like. If pressed, Vivian planned to insist that the game was meant as irony.

While Vivian sat at the counter, weighing her and Stefan's fate, the bell over the shop door rang. Vivian looked up. Ulf was standing in the door.

"What are you doing here?" asked Vivian.

Ulf grinned. "Picking up my review copy."

"We got you fired!"

"I'm games reviewer for the Independent."

"That rag? Nobody reads them. They don't even review games."

"They do now. Come on, give it to me," Ulf said as he walked into the shop. "Unless there's something else you'd like to give me."

"Go to hell," Vivian said.

Ulf's grin twisted into a grimace. "I wouldn't say that if I were you. You made me pretty upset. Most men, they'd want revenge." Ulf advanced to the counter and leaned so far over it that Vivian could feel his hot breath. "What do you think I want, Vivian?"

"I'm not alone in here, you know," said Vivian. "All I have to do is scream."

"Nice try, but I know Stefan's not here."

After Ulf's last visit, Vivian and Stefan had stowed a club under the counter. As she reached for it, Ulf grabbed her arm.

"Not so fast," Ulf said. "Don't try to reach for anything."

"Let me go!" said Vivian as she struggled to escape Ulf's grip. With her free hand, she beat against his arm, but he held tight.

Ulf pulled Vivian around the counter and shouted in her face. "I'll do whatever I want, you obnoxious bitch!" Vivian kicked Ulf, striking him in the hip, and in response he punched her across her face. He leaned his weight onto her, forcing her to lie on the ground. "You don't have the right to complain! You don't have the right to get me fired!" He wrenched her legs apart and pinned them to the ground beneath his knees. Holding her throat with one hand, he undid his belt and pulled his pants down with his other hand. "I'm not going to be mocked any longer! I've had it with you, you stupid woman!"

"Help! Help!" screamed Vivian.

Anna opened the door at the back of the shop. "Vivian? What's--oh my God!"

Ulf looked up at Anna and Elsa standing in the doorway. In his rage he didn't recognize the royal family, and he was too close to completing his revenge to stop now. "Watch her get what she deserves!" he cried.

Elsa pushed past Anna, dove over the counter, and fired a bolt of ice. As Ulf began to thrust his hips towards Vivian, the bolt struck the tip of his member, freezing it. Ulf screeched and drew back, and moments later Elsa crashed into him, knocking him over. As Ulf moaned in pain, Elsa grabbed his manhood and, with a devilish smirk, froze it solid.

Ulf curled up into a ball and whimpered. Elsa raised a cage of ice around him while they waited for the police. Anna held Vivian as she cried with relief.

 

Ulf was taken to the gallows, where his already frozen manhood was broken off in public. He was then arrested on charges of harassment, assault, and battery. Elsa was so excited by having emasculated someone again that she hardly paid attention to Ballroom. Its first print run sold out within the day, and the Jakobsens soon went back for a second, then a third. Anna glowed every time she read a review or heard the game mentioned. Elsa was convinced that it was awakening Arendelle's consciousness towards women's issues. Vivian was just glad she and her husband were safe.


	4. Damsels in Distress

In his mind's eye, he saw it clearly. He would be searching for a clue in some abandoned warehouse or dilapidated tenement, knowing that every moment was precious, knowing that she could die if he failed. At last he would find something, a scrap of paper, a trace of gunpowder, and then he would race to the castle. The queen's life was in danger, and only he knew how to save her. He would arrive just in time, tackling the traitors, struggling with them, subduing them. The queen would be crying in fear, and he would hold her and whisper comfort to her. Her head would lean against his chest, and she would whimper. But when her crying ceased, she would look up at him, and he would see in her dark blue eyes what she wanted to do, and he would nod. She would pull his head forward and tilt her own back, and their lips would touch, and hers would feel like the consummate fire that burned in his heart.

Detective Ebbe Amundsen shook his head to clear his mind. He had met Queen Elsa just once, a month ago, when he had been awarded the distinguished service medal. The ceremony had been only fifteen minutes, but those fifteen minutes of gazing upon her face had changed his life. He had never cared much for the monarchy before. He had long held republican sentiments and believed in the fundamental equality of all people. But now, in his thoughts the queen (his queen, his beloved queen!) had taken a place of honor above all others. She was queen not just by birth but because she was superior to everyone, better in virtue, in wisdom, and most especially in beauty. He had even reconsidered his disgust for the harsh punishments she meted out to men on the gallows.

As Amundsen's thoughts began to drift off again, he heard the sergeant calling his name. "Amundsen! I have something for you." As Amundsen followed the sergeant to an interview room, the sergeant explained, "This woman alleges that she was gang raped. We've sent for a doctor." Rage burned within Amundsen. He would bring the men to the queen's justice, he swore.

The woman wore a clean dress that flaunted her enormous bosom. Only by thinking of Elsa was Amundsen able to concentrate on the interview. The woman's name was Hilda Brekken. She claimed that her ex-boyfriend Herman Strand had shown up drunk at her apartment last night. She had let him in, thinking he meant to make up with her. Instead, he and three of his friends had raped her.

Amundsen nodded throughout. It was mere moments before he had decided that Miss Brekken was telling the truth, and he spent most of the interview building a case against the men. She had recognized Herman by his voice and the birthmark on his left cheek, and the attackers had referred to each other by name. When prompted, she said that yes, they had gagged her so the neighbors couldn't hear her. She had waited until morning to come to the police because she had been afraid to leave her apartment in the darkness. The queen will be pleased, he thought. If he were lucky, he might be able to stand next to her on the gallows while she emasculated the men. His heart fluttered.

But when the doctor examined Brekken, he disagreed. "She has no signs of trauma," he insisted to Amundsen. "No bruises, no lacerations, no swelling, no marks of any kind. She was not raped."

"Impossible," said Amundsen. "She can't be lying. The men were sailors. It's not even a surprise that they'd do something like this."

"You can't assault someone without leaving a trace. There are always injuries," insisted the doctor.

"They knew what they were planning. They would have been cautious."

"It can't be done," said the doctor, but Amundsen didn't listen. The doctor hadn't been there, so how could he have known? Miss Brekken's story was unscathed. The doctor's report was filed at the bottom of Amundsen's desk drawer, apart from the rest of the case.

Amundsen knew that his investigation was cursory, but thoughts of the queen had crowded out logic. When he talked to Miss Brekken's neighbors they didn't remember hearing anything that night, of course, but they did remember that she and Herman had gotten into screaming fights as recently as last week. She had mentioned a difficult breakup. No doubt Herman's motive had been revenge.

After a few days, Amundsen presented his case to his captain. He admitted to not having interviewed or even attempted to interview the suspects. But, he said, because they were all sailors, they could easily have found a way to escape if they thought they might be arrested. They could be questioned once they were in custody.

The captain shrugged. Amundsen's distinguished service medal proved that, despite his youth, he had already been noticed by upper management. It was best to get out of his way. "Fine. If you're sure."

Amundsen wanted to make the arrests as public as he could so that the queen would notice him. Notice him again, he reminded himself. She had smiled at him while pinning the medal on his chest. Maybe she was thinking about him just as he thought about her. Maybe she was ashamed to admit her feelings in public, but if he captured a dangerous gang, if he were a hero, she would be proud of him. And if she were proud of him, then—he didn't want to get too far ahead of himself.

Amundsen told the captain, "These are brutal, violent men. We need overwhelming force to ensure our officers' safety." The captain, who still remembered getting his nose broken twice while making arrests as a beat cop, acquiesced. Eight officers were sent for each of the suspects.

Amundsen invited a reporter from the Arendelle Messenger to witness the arrest of "the ringleader," Herman. The police apprehended him in the morning, just as he had arrived at the docks. Much to Amundsen's surprise, Herman didn't resist. When Amundsen announced, "Herman Strand, you're under arrest for the rape of Hilda Brekken," Herman turned pale. One of the other sailors called out, "Sorry, Herman." Herman went quietly. Amundsen allowed himself a smile. Yes, the queen would be pleased.

 

The next morning, the arrest was a front page story. "Did you read this?" asked Elsa, waving a copy of the newspaper.

"No, what is it?" asked Anna.

"Four sailors were arrested for gang rape."

"I don't want to read that over breakfast."

"They say it was revenge. The girl broke up with the ringleader last week. The men say they were out drinking at a tavern all night, of course." Elsa folded the newspaper and laid it aside. "It's what you'd expect from sailors. I think I'd like to punish them personally."

Kristoff picked up the newspaper. As he read, his brow furrowed. "They say they were at the Dancing Moose. On Tuesday." Kristoff looked up. "I was at the Dancing Moose on Tuesday."

"Oh, wonderful," said Elsa. "Go make a statement to the police. Then we can get right to the fun part."

 

"Tell me everyone you saw that night in the Dancing Moose," said Amundsen.

"The bartender and the barmaids, of course. Maybe half a dozen guys drinking at the bar, two of them with a lot of tattoos. A table with four guys and a woman. I remember that one of the guys had a birthmark on his face—"

"Describe it for me."

"Big? Purple? And on his, uh, left cheek."

"How long were they there?"

"From the time I got there until closing."

"About when would you say that was?"

"From six until almost two."

"You were at the bar for eight hours? What were you doing?"

"I was with all the guys I ice harvest with. Talking, drinking. Some darts. A game of billiards."

"So you weren't watching the man with the birthmark the whole time."

"Well, no—"

"So he might have left."

Kristoff shook his head. "Their table was loud. We would've noticed if they'd left."

"Even later in the evening?"

"Yeah. Who is this guy anyway? Is he the guy?"

"Did you get drunk that night?"

"Not really. A beer every hour or so."

"You were sober enough that you remember everything clearly."

"Yeah."

"You're sure? You'd testify that a man with a big purple birthmark on his face was at the Dancing Moose from six in the evening until two in the morning?"

"Yeah."

"Wait here," said Amundsen. Miss Brekken had said that the rape happened around eight o'clock. This man's story provided the suspects an alibi. There was only one possible conclusion. When Amundsen returned to the interview room, there was an officer with him. "Mr. Bjorgman? You're under arrest for conspiracy in the rape of Hilda Brekken." Elsa would be proud.

 

Kristoff was taken to the city jail. In a cell across from him was Herman, who had a big purple birthmark on his left cheek just as Kristoff had remembered.

"Hey, you're that guy, right?" Kristoff asked.

"Don't talk to me about it," said Herman.

"I remember you. I tried to give you an alibi."

"Mmm."

"I was at the Dancing Moose on Tuesday. But they just threw me in here."

A man in Kristoff's cell said, "Turns out having a good time is criminal." He offered a thick hand. "Jorg."

Kristoff shook Jorg's hand. "You're the bartender, right? What are you doing in here?"

"Conspiracy to commit rape, they tell me."

"This is insane."

"Tell me something I didn't know."

"Does anyone know what's going on?"

Herman said, "Yeah. Look, here's the problem. Hilda is smoking hot. She's got these huge tits, and I thought, who cares if she's crazy? And everyone said don't do it, Hilda is trouble, Hilda will do something to you. And I said, whatever, and we were all over each other for a few months, every time I was ashore, and it was great. And then I realized that she wanted to own my life. Every person I talked to, every place I went, every thing I did, if she wasn't there, then I couldn't do it, and if I did, that meant I was cheating on her. She didn't want me to visit my own mother! She had to come along, and then she checked Mama's house to see if there were any girls hiding in the closets. Because she loved me, she said.

"So about three weeks ago I met another girl, and it made me realize that I was done with Hilda. And when I told her that, she started screaming and cursing and telling me that I had no right, that I was hers, that I wasn't allowed to leave. Which just made me leave faster.

"So on Tuesday a bunch of us were at the Dancing Moose, and my new girl Emilia was there, and we had a great time. And then I got thrown in here. If Emilia didn't keep visiting me, I'd say, to hell with girlfriends, it's prostitutes from now until Doomsday."

Kristoff nodded. "I'd given up on women, heck, I'd given up on people. Then I met the perfect girl. It hasn't always been smooth, but God, it's worth it. She makes me happy like no one else can."

Jorg said, "That's great, I'm so happy for the both of you. Now how the hell are we getting out of this with our dicks still on?"

Kristoff sat down on the cell floor. "I don't know."

 

That afternoon, Amundsen shivered with excitement. Police Chief Leonardsen had asked for him. It had to be about the Brekken rape case, of course. The queen had surely heard of the case, so she had surely heard of him. Heard of him again, he reminded himself. Perhaps Leonardsen wanted to convey a message from her.

Amundsen entered Leonardsen's office without knocking and sat down across from the police chief. "I heard you asked for me," said Amundsen.

"I did," said Leonardsen, picking up a stack of papers. It was the case file, Amundsen saw. "I've been reviewing the Brekken case."

Leonardsen paused and studied Amundsen, waiting for a reaction. Amundsen let his nerves get to him. "What do you think?"

"Do you know who you arrested?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I'll be more specific. There was a man who came in to give a statement this morning. Do you know who he is?"

"I think his name was Bjorgman? It's in the file."

"I'm not asking his name. I'm asking if you know who he is."

"I don't think I know what you mean. Sir."

"The name Kristoff Bjorgman isn't familiar?"

Amundsen thought. With a start he remembered the name, and he knew why he hadn't remembered it before. He had never cared for royalty until he had met Elsa, and since then he had cared only for her. He had never had any interest in the Crown Princess's private life.

"I didn't recognize it, sir. But I do now." Yet, Amundsen thought, he had been right. Bjorgman's statement had contradicted the facts, so he must have been lying. Surely Elsa would understand.

"Let me ask you something else. The file seems incomplete. Mr. Bjorgman came in to make a statement. It must have been quite incriminating for you to arrest him on the spot. Where is it?"

Amundsen had filed the statement in his desk drawer next to the doctor's report. "It should be in the file."

"It's not. There's no mention of him anywhere, except to say that he was arrested."

Leonardsen stared at Amundsen, waiting. Eventually Amundsen said, "It should be there, sir. I can't explain it."

"Alright." Amundsen closed the file and laid it aside. "I'm going to let Mr. Bjorgman go. We can't hold anyone without evidence, and certainly not him."

"Sir, if you just—"

"No. In fact, I'm going to take you off of the case."

Amundsen gaped. Without the case, he had no way to attract Elsa's attention. "Please sir, I'm sure I can handle this."

"It's for the best. The case is notorious now. Arresting the Crown Princess's lover is a serious blunder. And, looking at the file, it's not your only one."

"Pardon me, sir, but what do you mean?"

"Miss Brekken has a file of her own. She's been jailed for making false police reports before. But don't worry yourself over it now." Leonardsen lowered his voice. "Tell me, Ebbe, is there something in your private life that's affecting your work?"

Amundsen allowed himself to think of Elsa. The joy of his fantasy distracted him from Leonardsen's question, and he made no reply.

"Ebbe? Are you all right?"

"Sir?"

"Why don't you take some time off? Take care of whatever it is that's bothering you."

"I'm fine, sir."

"I insist. Go home."

"I feel better now than I ever have!" Amundsen shouted. His own vehemence startled him. To prove that he wasn't overreacting, he leaned forward and said, "Excuse me sir, but this case means a lot to me."

"I can see. But you need to take your mind off of it. I'm going to suspend you. With pay, so don't worry. It's just procedural. You're not under investigation. I only want for you to stay away from work until you're feeling better."

 

Amundsen was dizzy as he walked through the city streets. "Just procedural," he mumbled. The sun came at him from all angles, blinding him, chasing him whenever he tried to look away. Elsa, he thought. He had defended Miss Brekken because that was what Elsa would have wanted. Everything he had done had been for Elsa. It would have been worth doing even if she hadn't known about it, because it was done in her honor and she deserved honor above all women. Yet, she must have known about it, about him, because of the newspaper story. The story had really been a love letter. Everything he did was now a love letter. His love for her had overwhelmed his being and was now his sole existence. If she had not enthralled him by force of beauty, he would have renounced himself, forgoing his soul as unnecessary.

With a start, Amundsen looked up. He was at the castle gates.

Amundsen said to the guard, "I request an audience with Her Majesty the Queen. Tell her I'm the investigator on the Brekken rape case."

"Wait here," said the guard.

The sun was no longer in Amundsen's eyes. He had regained his focus and now contemplated the future. He didn't have the police department anymore, only Elsa. He could become part of her staff, perhaps a guard or an administrative assistant. Pay, seniority, prestige, none of it mattered. If he was on her staff, she would get to know him, and when she knew how much he loved her, she would love him, too, because his love was pure and beautiful like she was.

The guard returned. "This way."

Amundsen was escorted to Elsa's study. She sat behind her desk with a copy of the day's newspaper. Kristoff sat in a chair to the side.

Amundsen bowed. "Your Majesty," he said. "May I presume you're familiar with the case?"

"Yes, I saw it in the newspaper this morning. And Kristoff was just telling me about his experience."

Her voice was like the sound of a harp, Amundsen thought. "Pardon me, Your Majesty, but Mr. Bjorgman isn't in a position to know everything about the case."

Kristoff said, "Explain, then. Why did you lock me up?"

Amundsen ignored Kristoff. "Your Majesty, I've been trying to imagine how you would want this case pursued. I know how much concern you have for the problems of women. I'm not a woman, but you've taught me, no, awakened me to the mistreatment of women. When Miss Brekken made her allegations, I knew you would want a full investigation. I couldn't shrug her off. It would have been like blaming her, the victim. I knew that she deserved justice, and everything I've done since then has been for her and for you."

Kristoff asked, "How does that explain anything?"

"I have no reason to doubt Miss Brekken's story, and I have plenty of reason to doubt yours. Why are you so sure that Herman Strand was in the Dancing Moose all of Tuesday night? You admitted that he wasn't with your group and that you weren't paying attention to him."

Elsa asked, "Kristoff? Is he right?"

"Of course not."

Amundsen said, "You claim that you were drinking for eight hours but never got drunk. And who spends eight hours in a tavern?"

"Look, I don't see any need to defend myself from you."

"That's as good as an admission of guilt." Amundsen's face turned serious. "Your Majesty, I believe that Mr. Bjorgman is a potential rapist himself. He's a danger to you and to everyone."

Kristoff interrupted, "That's going too far! What gives you the right—"

"Stay away from her!" said Amundsen. "I'm warning you!"

Kristoff stood and loomed over Amundsen. "What's your problem with me? How do you want to settle this?"

Elsa said, "Calm down, Kristoff."

Amundsen said, "I'll do whatever it takes to protect her!"

Kristoff said, "You need to leave. Right now."

"And leave her to be raped by you? Never."

Kristoff grabbed Amundsen's collar and lifted him out of his chair. "Last chance."

Elsa called, "Guards! Separate those two!" A host of guards appeared in the room and restrained Kristoff. Elsa continued, "Kristoff, Mr. Amundsen is only concerned for my safety. Go for a walk. We'll talk later." Elsa motioned to the guards, and they escorted Kristoff out.

When Elsa and Amundsen were alone, she said, "I'm sorry about that. Kristoff seemed offended when you called him a rapist. But all men are capable of it, so it's an honest mistake."

Amundsen hardly heard her. He was alone with the queen. His queen. "Elsa—" he began. "Your Majesty, I'm sorry for disturbing the peace of your home. If you'd prefer that I go, then, well..."

"It's fine. Now what did you come here for? Are you ready to put the suspects on trial?"

"I'm concerned about prosecuting the case. I'd like to move forward, but Chief Leonardsen doesn't believe that there's enough evidence."

"But why not?"

Amundsen felt a moment of fear as he wondered what Elsa would think of his suspension. But when he looked into her eyes, he felt peace. "He thought that there was something in my personal life that was interfering with my work. He suspended me. I'm no longer on the case."

"Is he right?"

A cloud passed by the window, covering the two of them in shadow. "I denied it, but he's right. My personal life has been turned upside down in the past month."

"Around the time you got the distinguished service medal."

"You remember!" Amundsen felt his heart swell. "Yes, since just then. Ever since then, I've thought of only one thing. You."

"Pardon?"

Amundsen laid his hands face up on the table and offered them to Elsa. "Elsa, ever since I met you, I haven't thought of anyone else. You've become my whole life. Everything I do is for you."

Amundsen watched Elsa as she reflected on his words. At first, he thought she was puzzled, perhaps because of his frankness. Then she seemed to be worried. It must not be the right time to announce their love to the world. He could live with that. They would share their love in secret. He would visit her at night, when nobody would see, and he would depart in the early morning, before anyone awoke.

When Elsa spoke, she sounded cautious. "That's very sweet, Ebbe, and unexpected. I assumed that a handsome, successful man like you would have a girlfriend. Don't you have a girlfriend?"

She had called him handsome! His hands were shaking with excitement. "No, I've never had a girlfriend. I've always been scared to talk to girls. I'm scared now, too."

Elsa said, "I can see. But you'd like to be my boyfriend?"

"More than anything."

"Have you ever wondered whether we're moving too fast? We've only met once before, and—"

"No, never. I don't have any doubts at all." Amundsen stood, walked around her desk, and knelt in front of Elsa. He took her hand and said, "Elsa, will you marry me?"

Elsa stared mutely at Amundsen. He looked back at her with wonder and admiration. She wanted to say no, but she was so stupefied that the only thing to come out of her mouth was a gurgle.

Amundsen grinned. "It must be too much all at once. You don't have to answer me now. I'll go so that you can think, but let me leave you with a present." He leaned forward and kissed her.

Elsa screamed. "Help! Guards, guards!" she called, falling out of her chair as she tried to escape Amundsen's lips. She scrubbed her mouth with her sleeve. "Oh my God. I've been raped. I've been raped!" Guards poured into the room. "Arrest him!" shouted Elsa, pointing at Amundsen. "He raped me!"

"But what's wrong?" asked Amundsen as the guards grabbed him. "I love you, Elsa! I love you!"

Elsa got up from the floor and stood in front of Amundsen. "It's all clear now. You and Miss Brekken conspired so that you could get to me. I hate to think what you've done to other women who've gotten your attention." And she spat in his face.

 

Elsa concluded that the other suspects in the case were Amundsen's victims, too, so they were released that evening. Hilda Brekken was arrested and charged with filing a false police report and conspiracy to commit rape. The next day, Amundsen was led to the gallows. As the guards stripped him of his pants, Amundsen whispered, "Please, sweetheart, please don't. Please don't."

Elsa asked, "Is that what your other victims said?" She grabbed his manhood, froze it, and with a violent twist, snapped it off.


	5. The Patriarchy

"Again? Where are you going now?" Anna asked.

"Out," said Kristoff.

Anna folded her arms. "Out where?"

"Places."

As Elsa left the sitting room, she could hear Anna's voice rising. "Aren't you happy with me? Why don't you spend time with me anymore?"

"Of course I love you, baby," heard Elsa. Kristoff's rolling eyes were audible.

Anna and Kristoff's clashing voices faded as Elsa retreated to her bedroom. A while later, there was a knock on her door. "Come in," Elsa said. Anna's eyes were bloodshot, and her makeup was running down her face.

"Hug me," Anna said.

Elsa guided Anna to the bed. They sat down, and Anna laid her head on Elsa's breast. Elsa put her arms around Anna and stroked Anna's hair. "Tell him he can't come back. He's not good enough for you."

"It's true love. We love each other." Anna sniffled. "I just wish we were happy, too."

"It's not possible for a man and a woman to be happy with each other. They're different. They don't understand us. I sure don't understand them."

"I'd do anything for it to be like it used to be."

"It can't be." Elsa sat Anna upright and looked into her eyes. "I've told you before that you should throw him out. You have to put men behind you."

"I can't leave Kristoff."

Elsa leaned forward and shoved her lips hard against Anna's. Anna jumped back.

"What was that?" Anna asked.

"I understand you better than Kristoff does, don't I?"

"I'm not going to do that kind of thing with you."

"I won't abandon you like Kristoff." Elsa kissed Anna again.

Anna pushed Elsa away from her. "Why are you doing this?"

"I love you, Anna. More than he does. Anything he can do for you, I'll do better." Elsa gripped Anna's shoulders. "Love between women is pure because we're equals. It's better than any relationship a man and a woman can have."

"I just want to be happy with him," said Anna.

"You've been indoctrinated to think that way. Men have told us that we need them for thousands of years. Well we don't. No woman has ever needed a man. Let me show you."

"It's disgusting," said Anna, getting up from the bed.

Elsa grabbed Anna's arm. "You haven't even tried it." As Anna tried to pull her arm out of Elsa's grip, Elsa took Anna by the waist and slammed her onto the bed. Elsa climbed on top of Anna, grabbed her head, and wrested a kiss from her. "I'm going to show you what you've been missing. It's going to be better than anything Kristoff has ever done for you."

"Please stop," said Anna. "Please."

"You're going to be a real woman. An adult woman, free from childish misconceptions about men. You'll thank me when I'm done."

Afterwards, Anna lay flat on her back, naked and on top of the sheets, staring at the ceiling. Elsa wriggled up to Anna and put her hand around Anna's chest. Anna shivered and rolled onto her side, putting her back to Elsa. As Elsa pulled tight against Anna, pushing her breasts into Anna's back and her thighs against Anna's buttocks, Anna made a pitiful whimper.

Elsa lazily fondled Anna's breast and whispered, "It'll take time to get used to, but it's better this way. You'll see. You won't want to go back to Kristoff." Anna wept.

 

A few nights later, as Anna was undressing for bed, Elsa walked into Anna's bedroom. Anna's only warning was a lustful leer, and then she was trapped. As Elsa left, she said, "See? You're getting used to it."

Anna took to locking the door to her room before bedtime. Two days later, as Anna lay in bed trying to sleep, the window burst open and a frigid wind blew in. Elsa stood outside the window, on a platform of ice, silhouetted against the full moon. She waved her hand, icy stairs grew from the windowsill to the floor, and she strutted to the bed, wiggling her hips at Anna. "Want some company?" Elsa asked.

"I'm fine," said Anna. "And tired. Let me sleep."

"You'll sleep better after this. Trust me."

"Oh no," said Anna.

"Oh yes," said Elsa.

When Elsa was done, she and Anna lay in bed together, naked, while the full moon shined upon them. Elsa said, "I'm going to tell people. They're going to know what we've done and how good it is."

Anna's face flushed. "Please, Elsa, at least keep it a secret."

"Trust me. I know what's best."

The proclamation was made the next day. "Citizens of Arendelle!" announced the herald. "Whereas, Her Majesty Queen Elsa of Arendelle is a woman and therefore understands the thoughts of other women; and whereas, a man cannot understand the thoughts of a woman; and whereas, Her Highness Crown Princess Anna of Arendelle is also a woman, and she and the queen have—oh my God. Ahem. And she and the queen have shared the gift of love as only two women can, and have. Um. Have proven that the pleasure of another woman is greater than the pleasure of any man. Wow! I mean, wow. I mean, therefore it is hereby decreed by Her Majesty that sexual relations between a man and a woman can never be relations among equals; and that effective immediately, all such relations are banned; and that any man engaging in sexual relations with a woman shall have his manhood frozen off by Her Majesty the Queen."

Kristoff demanded of Anna, "What is going on?"

"I didn't want to!" said Anna.

"'The pleasure of another woman is greater than the pleasure of any man'? What's that about?"

"She won't listen to me!" Anna tried to take Kristoff's hands, but he snapped them back. "She makes me do it. She holds me down and tells me I like it." Anna wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I just want it to never happen again."

Kristoff found Elsa in the library, taking notes on a volume labeled, "Laws of the Kingdom of Arendelle, Volume Thirty." He sat across from her and said, "We need to talk about Anna."

Elsa put her quill down and said, "What do you mean? I'm taking care of her now."

"I'd rather you not. She doesn't like it."

"She's never experienced a woman's touch, that's all. In the long run it's healthier. Sex with men is disgusting."

"It's what people are supposed to do."

"You were taught that women's lives revolve around men, the same as we were. But I'm going to change everything. That kind of thinking won't be permitted!"

"What are people supposed to do? What about all the husbands and wives? All the boyfriends and girlfriends?"

"The women will find other women, and the men will find other men. Thousands of years of oppression will vanish."

Kristoff growled, "What if I don't want another man?"

"If you want a woman, it's because you're an oppressor."

"No it's not! My wanting another man is just as reasonable as, I don't know, something crazy. Like me and Sven together. That's what it's like. Would it be natural for me and Sven to have sex?"

Elsa leaned back in her chair and chewed the end of her quill. "I hadn't thought of that. But who am I to judge? As long as you both consent, I guess there's nothing wrong with it."

"Of course there's something wrong with it! He's a reindeer!"

"It's illegal, yes, but that can be fixed. It needs to be fixed. In fact," said Elsa, getting up, "give me a couple of hours, will you?"

"Uh, what?"

"You've given me Anna. I'll give you Sven."

 

"Citizens of Arendelle!" announced the herald. "Whereas, Kristoff Bjorgman is a man of high standing in this kingdom; and he has been with his trusty reindeer Sven since boyhood; and whereas, the depths of their love have had to be secret until now; and whereas, Her Majesty Queen Elsa of Arendelle believes that there should be no legal impediments to true love; therefore it is hereby decreed that the laws against bestiality are revoked; except that both parties must consent; and it may only take place between a man and a male animal or between a woman and a female animal; and any man who interferes with the love of human and beast, or who violates the two aforementioned conditions, shall have his manhood frozen off by Her Majesty the Queen."

A man called, "What if a woman interferes?"

The herald scanned the parchment again. "It doesn't say anything about that. Maybe it's okay? But your guess is as good as mine."

When Anna next saw Kristoff, she laughed. Kristoff, who was somber, said, "I'm going out tonight."

Anna's face puckered. "You have to protect me from her."

"I can't. I have to do something."

Rather than risk more abuse, Anna went straight to her room and locked the door and the windows. That evening, she heard the doorknob rattle. Elsa's voice asked, "Anna? Are you in there?" Anna watched the door shake, but smug sleep was already overcoming her.

The keyhole filled with ice. There were clicking noises, and then the doorknob turned. Elsa stood on the other side, wearing a skimpy ice negligee. Anna pulled her blanket over her head, but Elsa ripped it off, saying, "Come on, let's get started."

From then on, Kristoff spent every night away from the castle. Anna abandoned her bedroom and slept in a spare bedroom. After a few nights of quiet, Elsa discovered her and giggled, "You're playing hard to get. I like it." After that, Anna slept in their parents' bedroom, a servant's bedroom, on the couch in the library, beneath a tree in the garden, on a mat in the stable, and finally in the dungeon. The dungeon lasted Anna a whole week, but when Elsa caught her, she squealed, "I didn't know you were into this too!" and shackled Anna to the wall. 

"How do I get you to stop?" cried Anna.

"Sisters don't need a safeword," Elsa said.

The morning after that, Anna found Kristoff in the stable, harnessing Sven for the day's ice deliveries. "Take me away from here," she said. "I don't care where."

"Do you mean that?"

"She's gone crazy," said Anna, rubbing her bruised wrists.

Kristoff said, "I have a place for you to sleep, but there are rules. You'll have to do things. Things you haven't done before and might not like."

"Anything's better than this."

"You'll have to exactly as I tell you from now on. You can't ask questions, and you can't ever talk about it."

"Deal."

"It's not a deal," Kristoff said, "it's a commitment."

"Whatever. I accept."

"Alright. Go get a cloak. We can't have you recognized."

Kristoff led Anna up and down the city streets, in circles, ducking around corners and doubling back, getting Anna thoroughly lost. Near the end, he made her wear a blindfold. All she could sense was his callused hand, the dense cobblestones under her feet, and the warm sun on her back. He stopped her and said, "This is your last chance."

"I know what I'm doing."

"If you say so," Kristoff said. He turned Anna and she took a step. The sun left her, and a foul miasma permeated the air. She shivered even under her cloak. 

There was a knock and the grinding of wood on wood. "Password?"

Anna peeked. They were in a filthy alley, and Kristoff was in front of a thick wooden door, mumbling something she couldn't make out into a slot. She restored her blindfold as locks clicked, chains rattled, and the door squeaked open. Kristoff took her hand again and led her inside. The door slammed, and she heard the locks and chains again.

"Good evening, sir," said a voice.

"How are you, Ragnar?"

"Excellent, sir. I see you've brought a wench."

Kristoff pulled the hood off of her cloak and took off her blindfold. Ragnar was a pudgy man with greasy hair. When he saw Anna he started to bow, but Kristoff threw up his hand against Ragnar's chest. "She's still a wench." To Anna, he said, "First rule. Women go barefoot at all times. Take off your shoes."

"What?"

Kristoff folded his arms. "No questions. Take them off." Anna obeyed, and Kristoff continued, "Follow me. Ragnar, have Marta sent to us. Anna will share her room."

Kristoff led Anna through a smoky, wood paneled hall. Mounted animal heads lined the walls. "What is this place?" she asked.

Kristoff spun around. "No questions!" he warned.

Anna shrunk back. "Well, if you say so."

Kristoff took Anna up a flight of stairs and to a room with two beds. "You and Marta will share this room. She'll teach you the rules." He left, pushing past a young woman standing in the door as if she weren't there.

The woman curtsied and said, "I'm Marta. You must be Anna."

"Princess Anna," she said. "Or Your Highness. Or at least Ma'am."

"Not here. That kind of cheekiness will get you punished."

"What is this place?"

"It's the headquarters of The Patriarchy. We call it the Man Cave."

"What's The Patriarchy?"

"Silly wench, we're going to take back Arendelle. We're going to return it to its former glory, a time before it was corrupted by weak women like you and me, a time when men were in charge and women knew their place. Now get out of that frilly dress. I have something more appropriate for you."

As Marta helped Anna into a plain linen dress, she explained the rules. "Wenches must obey their masters at all times. Wenches may not speak until spoken to. A wench may not question her master's orders."

"I have a master?"

"Yes, Grand Patriarch Kristoff is your master. You should be proud. You're his first wench."

"Grand Patriarch?"

"We were founded at the time of the Great Betrayal." Anna gave Marta a confused expression. "You know. Last month, when natural relations between masters and wenches were outlawed by the Anti-Wench. She calls herself the queen, but it's disgusting and unnatural for a woman to be in charge of men. Arendelle is rising in protest. The Grand Patriarch will lead us into the Time of Obedience, when right relationships between masters and wenches will be restored."

"How many masters and wenches are there?"

"Only five masters so far, and three wenches, including you. But we're growing quickly."

"How did Kristoff get to be Grand Patriarch?"

"You mustn't ever address a master by name. Remember, you're not his equal. Call him 'Master Kristoff'."

"What makes... Master Kristoff... the Grand Patriarch?"

"Oh, the masters are run by the Council of Patriarchs. Right now that's all of the masters since there are so few. The Council chooses the best, most perfect of the Patriarchs to be the Grand Patriarch."

"I'm so confused."

Marta smiled. "Of course you are. You've been living under the delusion that you should control your life. Don't worry, we'll fix you."

Once Anna was dressed, Marta showed her around the Man Cave. The upstairs was lined with two person bedrooms. "The wenches' quarters are upstairs. Of course, our masters can ask us to join them overnight, but even the best wench must be reminded that sleeping with her master is a privilege, not a right." Marta took them downstairs. At the back was a kitchen, where a barefoot pregnant woman was cooking. "This is the kitchen. Anna, meet Veronica."

Veronica stopped stirring a stew pot for a moment. "Pleased to meet you, Anna. You must be Master Kristoff's new wench."

Anna sniffed. "What's cooking? It smells good."

Veronica waved her finger at Anna. "Don't even think about it. This isn't for wenches. It's for masters."

"Oh. But what is it?"

"Not that it's any of your concern, but it's venison."

"Venison and what? Onions? Turnips?"

"No, nothing but venison. There's no reason for a master to eat anything but meat."

"But won't they get constipated?"

Veronica glowered at her. "You must think you're funny. Masters don't get constipated. Even their digestive systems are superior to ours."

"Really. Well, okay, you're all kind of weird, but as long as I can stay here I guess you're not so bad."

"Oh, you'll learn to love it. I have just the thing for you to start with." Veronica went to the corner of the kitchen and pulled out a broom. "Here you go. How about you sweep the kitchen?"

"That's ridiculous. I have servants to do that."

"You'll feel better. Believe me, housework makes you feel feminine like nothing else."

Anna held the broom up to her face and twirled the bristles with her finger. "I've never used one of these before. How do they work?"

Anna needed only a few moments of instruction. Veronica was right. Sweeping the kitchen did make Anna feel better. There was something relaxing about the lack of thought, something about the menial work that dulled the ache of her trauma with Elsa. When Anna had finished the kitchen, she moved on to the wenches' quarters. After that, Marta said, "You're doing well. Let me offer you a reward. You can sweep the den!"

"The den?" asked Anna.

"Yes! You get to sweep a room the masters use!"

"I'm kind of tired. I haven't been sleeping well."

"Sweeping for the masters is an honor, Anna."

The den had the disgusting smell of cigars. Anna tried not to breathe. When she was nearly finished sweeping, Kristoff came by. "Anna?" he asked. "How are you feeling?"

"Kristoff! It's—"

"It's Master Kristoff. Or just Master."

"I don't get it--"

"Remember the rules, Anna. No questions. We're not on equal terms here. Do you understand?"

"Yeah. I mean, I guess so. But I don't—" Anna cut herself off. "Yes, Master."

"Good. Now, how are you feeling?"

Anna hesitated for a moment before venturing, "I feel good, Master. I like sweeping."

"Excellent. You're already learning your place." Kristoff said in a low voice, "Anna, wenches aren't supposed to go out much. But Elsa has to see you around the castle or else she'll wonder where you've gone. I'm going to take you back to the castle tomorrow morning, and you'll stay there until I come get you in the evening."

"Sure, makes sense."

"Say, 'Yes, Master.'"

"Yes, Master."

"There's a good wench." Kristoff kissed Anna's forehead.

 

Anna developed a double life. Each morning, Kristoff would take her to the castle. Elsa would see them both at breakfast, and they would both pretend that Anna had been at the castle all night, sleeping where Elsa couldn't find her. Kristoff would leave, supposedly to work as an ice harvester, but actually to recruit for The Patriarchy. Anna would waste the day with some sort of "frivolity", as she took to calling it, making sure that Elsa saw her now and then, but being careful not to be alone with her. After dinner, Kristoff would, by taking a long and circuitous route, lead Anna back to the Man Cave. There, Anna polished the lacquer on his sled, learned how to do his laundry and took to ironing even his underwear, took up knitting, and when she had a spare moment, swept. She even began to learn how to cook.

Two weeks after Anna's initiation into wenchhood, after dinner with Elsa and Kristoff, Anna began to collect the dishes. When she noticed Elsa watching her, she put the dishes down. "I felt like helping out," she mumbled. Kristoff gave her a long stare.

"Don't stress yourself out," said Elsa. "Come on, I'll help you relax."

"Not right now. I have a headache," Anna lied.

"Do you want me to put you to bed?"

A chill ran over Anna's body, and she felt the hair on her arms stand up. "I'll be fine. I'm just not feeling it right now."

That evening, at the Man Cave, Kristoff scolded, "You have to pretend that everything is the way it used to be. We can't let her get suspicious."

"But I don't want things to be the way they used to be, Master."

"Anna, what you want doesn't matter. A good wench doesn't want anything. She does as she's told."

The next day, Kristoff decided that, to maintain the pretense that he and Anna still lived at the castle, Elsa needed to see them there late in the evening. Instead of taking Anna back to the Man Cave, he lounged around the sitting room, leg draped over a couch arm, sipping imported whisky.

As Kristoff began to light a cigar, Elsa shot a bolt of ice at his match and said, "Don't you even dare. It'll stink up the whole castle."

Anna said, "He can do what he wants."

"Not in my sitting room," Elsa said, returning to her book.

"How can you say that? You should treat him with respect!"

Kristoff sat up and said, "Anna, calm down."

Anna looked down and mumbled, "I'm sorry, Master."

Elsa laid her book aside. She asked, "Did I hear that right? Anna, why did you call him 'Master'?"

Kristoff said, "That's not what she said. I mean, I don't know what she said because I didn't hear it clearly, but it couldn't have been that."

"Anna, what did you say?"

Anna looked to Kristoff. "What should I tell her?"

Kristoff groaned. "Don't say that." He drained his shot glass. "I'm going to bed."

"Wait," said Elsa. "I deserve an explanation. Something weird is going on."

"Ask her, not me." Kristoff left with a hurried saunter. Once he was out of sight, he ran at a dead sprint for the castle gates.

Elsa asked, "Anna? Is everything okay?"

Anna scowled. "Of course not. You told him what to do! You're not supposed to tell him what to do!"

"What? It's my castle."

Anna shouted, "You should never question him! That's not your place!"

"Excuse me, I thought I was Her Royal Highness, Queen of Arendelle. What's gotten into you?"

"I realized I was just a wench! I'm proud to serve Kristoff! The way you behave is an abomination!" As Anna left, she yelled, "Every day I wish The Patriarchy had already taken over!"

Anna ran through the streets after Kristoff, shouting, "Master! Master!" When he was a few blocks away from the castle, he allowed her to catch up. Together they ran to the Man Cave, with Kristoff taking no precautions to avoid revealing its location to her.

"Password?" asked Ragnar at the door.

Through Kristoff's ragged breaths, Anna made out the password for the first time. "Endless summer," he breathed. A few clicks and clanks later, Kristoff and Anna were inside.

Anna wouldn't meet Kristoff's eyes. "I'm sorry, Master. I ruined everything. Please punish me."

Kristoff shook his head. "Not right now, Anna."

"Please Master, I deserve it."

"I said not right now!"

Anna began to bawl. "Please, Master, be angry at me! I can be a good wench again if you punish me!"

"Anna, just go to bed."

Anna looked up at Kristoff, and her face turned from sadness to joy. Her master had given her an order. "Yes, Master," she sang. And as she lay in bed on her straw mattress, she dreamed that Kristoff was patting her head and calling her a good wench.

 

Within a few days, Elsa had gotten a report on The Patriarchy from the police. It seemed to be some kind of bizarre cult of man-worship. Information was scanty, though. While the Patriarchy seemed to be everywhere, maybe constituting as much as half of Arendelle, the police hadn't been able to confirm anyone as an actual member except for Kristoff. Elsa was filled with rage, both against Kristoff and herself. Anxious snow swirled around her as she paced around her study.

The police began jailing men that evening. Random arrests continued the next morning, and rumors spread all day. Policemen who failed to meet their quotas were jailed themselves. Elsa made her plan public that evening. "Citizens of Arendelle!" announced the herald. "Whereas, Her Majesty Queen Elsa of Arendelle is distressed over the disappearance of her sister; and whereas, the disappearance of her sister is due to The Patriarchy, a group that exalts men above women; therefore it is hereby decreed that beginning tomorrow, Her Majesty shall—oh no. Oh no! Her Majesty shall freeze off the manhoods of one hundred men of the city every day until Her Highness Crown Princess Anna of Arendelle has been released."

Kristoff and the Council of Patriarchs decided on a plan that evening. The next day, before Kristoff left, Anna expressed herself as boldly as she knew how. "Pardon me, Master. It's not my place as a wench to worry about you, and you're much smarter and wiser than I am, but I'm scared what might happen to you if you leave."

Kristoff smiled and kissed Anna's forehead. "Don't fret, Anna. I'll take care of everything. I'll send for you tonight."

Kristoff wore a hooded cloak to avoid being recognized as he made his way to the gallows. The crowd surrounding the gallows was made almost entirely of women. The only men in attendance were the prisoners that Elsa had ordered rounded up, the policemen, and the prison guards. The rest of Arendelle's men had stayed away.

On top of the gallows stood Elsa, gleaming in her ice dress, and her first victim, a near-sighted balding man in his fifties. "Women of Arendelle!" called Elsa. "Your bondage is over! I am freeing you from The Patriarchy! These men you see here before you are members of The Patriarchy in spirit, if not in fact. They are your oppressors just as surely as Kristoff is the oppressor of my sister. I will ruin as many men as necessary to make them submit to our will!"

Kristoff interrupted, "You should start with me."

As Kristoff unhooded himself, Elsa hissed, "Guards! Capture him!"

Kristoff, calm and assured, walked to the gallows where two policemen grabbed his arms. "Don't worry, I'm not running," he said. Kristoff ascended the gallows, taking the place of the balding man. He looked down at Elsa. "Do you know what makes me Grand Patriarch?" he asked.

"Your cruelty," Elsa said.

"No," Kristoff said. "You're about to find out."

"Guards," Elsa said, "strip him."

As the guards removed Kristoff's pants, a gasp arose from the crowd. Elsa gaped. Kristoff's member was as thick as his forearm and reached all the way to his knee.

"Meet your new master," Kristoff said.

Elsa took Kristoff's penis in her hand. It was warm and firm but not hard. "You can't mean that," said Elsa. Kristoff smirked. She looked back down at the penis. It was too thick for her hand to wrap around it.

Elsa put her other hand on Kristoff's penis. It was throbbing now, growing stiffer under her touch. She gazed at it, admiring the fine veins streaking underneath the skin and the smooth, crimson tip that poked out from beneath his foreskin. She'd never seen a penis like it. Indeed, she'd never thought a magnificent penis could exist, but here one was, under her fingers and thick with blood.

Elsa tightened her grip. As she lowered the temperature of her fingers, she twisted her mouth into a grimace and stopped. She was about to ruin something extraordinary. She had always dismissed penises as useless appendages unnecessary for women. But perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to examine this one. She pulled the foreskin back, exposing the full and round head. She squeezed the head between her thumb and forefinger. Its soft flesh promised gentle penetration. Behind that softness, however, would be unmatchable pleasure.

Elsa looked up at Kristoff. His smirk had changed to a condescending smile. "You want it," he said.

"No," Elsa murmured, but she was rubbing her fingers up and down the shaft.

"Yes," Kristoff said. He picked up Elsa, putting one hand on her back and another on her buttock, and laid her down on the gallows. "You can't resist my power."

"I have to," whispered Elsa. "To be a woman." A feeling of vulnerability enveloped her. She looked at his pulsing penis again and saw the enemy, and she knew that for the good of womankind, he needed to be emasculated. When that was done, she would be safe again. But as she admired it, her spirit collapsed, and she was overcome by a new feeling of femininity. She waved her hand, making her ice dress disappear. A breeze blew over her body, making the hairs on her arms stand up as if she were cold. She turned her head to the throng of women below but was ashamed to speak. Her nakedness was proof she had betrayed them. Kristoff centered himself over Elsa. When she turned her head from the crowd to him, and when he saw the softness in her eyes, he knew he had won, and he thrusted forward.

 

That evening, Anna joined Elsa in the castle. They met with smiles and laughter. As they hugged, Anna said, "I'm so glad you're a wench like me now!"

"If I'd known what I was missing I would have submitted so much sooner," said Elsa.

The next day, Kristoff was crowned Grand Patriarch of Arendelle. The castle was redecorated with taxidermy. Kristoff smoked cigars wherever he pleased and farted with impunity. Within days, Elsa's decrees had been repealed, and Kristoff's new decrees officially made women into second-class citizens. Elsa's and Anna's names were taken away, and they became "the blonde" and "the redhead".

That night, the master took the blonde to his bedchamber and left the redhead alone. As the redhead lay sleepless in the room that she and the blonde now shared, she stared at the blonde's empty bed, the bed that she had taught the blonde to make just hours ago. Memories of arguments and anger and sadness filled her thoughts, reminding her that she had once tried to possess the master for herself. 

The redhead got up. Leaving her room, she crept through the castle, her silent footfalls chasing the scene in her head, until she arrived at the master's bedchamber. At the door, she knelt and peered through the keyhole. On the other side, lit by starlight, were the master and the blonde. He was on top of her, grunting and huffing as he thrusted into her. She lay with her arms and legs splayed, motionless and passive. As the redhead watched, the blonde rolled her head toward the door for a moment, and the redhead saw lifeless eyes and a giddy smile. In the master, she saw the same fierce look she had once seen in her sister.

The next day, while the redhead and the blonde were doing their master's laundry together in the castle courtyard, the redhead asked, "Will it bother you when Master doesn't spend the night with you?"

"It can't," said the blonde. "A good wench doesn't want anything for herself."

"You used to want things."

"That was when I was disobedient. I did terrible things to people. People including you."

"You even said a man could never understand you."

The blonde put down her washboard. "Like I said, that was when I was disobedient. I'm much healthier now."

"But why?"

"Well," the blonde said, blushing, "it was Master's penis. All it took was one deep thrust, and I was cured. He could cure anyone."

"And now? Does he understand you because of his penis?"

The blonde shook her head and returned to scrubbing. "I was just a bad wench. Now I love Master, and I know my place."

"I see," said the redhead, but she didn't. Before, the blonde had controlled her and said it was love. Now, the master controlled her and it was love. Perhaps when two people were in love, one was always in charge and the other was always obedient. But before the redhead had become a wench, she would have said that she loved Kristoff, yet neither of them had been obedient then.

"What are you thinking about?" asked the blonde.

"No, I'm not thinking," said the redhead as she tossed a pair of the master's socks into the rinse tub. "I have Master to do that for me."


End file.
